Gripping the cross
Has set off on a journey
With no map, nothing at all
The winding road of cypresses is a Y-shaped junction
Toward a sunlit place
Yeah
The sea is rough
In the deep, deep places
Its color is very murky
The seagulls of the summer resort
Keep crying out
Around the tops of the masts
An afternoon of blazing ultramarine blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue
The red-black moon is swirling
A pillar of fire rising in the night
In front of the red-black-roofed church
Somehow, one person stands there
An afternoon of blazing ultramarine blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue
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Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue
Yeah...
An afternoon of blazing ultramarine blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Oveil
Oveil Blue
Blue